Throne of Balance
by AmazingGraceless
Summary: Hadrian Potter created an empire. He married the powerful Renesmee Cullen, descendant of Isolt Sayre. He now has a daughter. Allana, however, is discovering the problems that come when your father's a Dark Lord. Dark!Harry, Evil!Renesmee. Plenty of Cullen and Werewolf bashing alike.
1. A Palace in Olympia

Emperor Hadrian couldn't help but notice the rain falling outside as he walked down the hallway of the Olympia Palace in Forks, Washington. This was one of his many palaces in the world that had become a part of his empire. This one, however, was special for one reason, and one reason only.

Empress Renesmee waited for him at the door, beautiful as she'd always been. Her chocolate brown eyes looked to Hadrian with an intelligence and wisdom that did not match her age as it appeared to be. Most would say that the Emperor did not adore anything besides his own power, but they were wrong. He adored his wife, with her reddish bronze curls flowing around her like a waterfall, wearing gowns of black or white. Despite having delicate features, like a child, she had the mature mind and heart of the perfect empress.

"Good day, husband," she declared, the words flowing off her tongue with a cadence that reminded Hadrian of poetry. "I had been wondering when you would arrive to visit your offspring. She has been excited for this appointment for some time."

"I'd imagine," Hadrian said with a smirk curling up his lip as he approached Renesmee. "I only have half an hour, love. Then I have a meeting with the Volturi-"

"Take care, dear one," Renesmee admonished, tracing her warm hand over her husband's lightning scar. "You know how the Volturi tried to harm me in my tender infancy. They would do anything to avenge their honor on that day of fate."

"I have more power than the entire guard combined," Hadrian chuckled. "I wouldn't worry, love."

"I cannot help but express my distress for your health," Renesmee said, expressing said distress through pushing her feelings to Hadrian with the power she'd known her whole life. Amongst images of the Volturi's mass murders and Jane and Alec and the feeling of panic and fear, Hadrian could hear the screams that were the base of her greatest fears.

He only smiled at her with a tenderness no one else would ever receive, and brushed past his empress. He needed to visit his daughter, the heir to his empire. And so he approached the door to the tower containing the Heir Princess of the Pottermore Empire.

The werewolf guards posted by the tower nodded at Hadrian, recognizing the familiar scent of their emperor. Besides, they knew Renesmee would know an imposter immediately before any of the pack did. Hadrian ascended the staircase, the traps recognizing his magical signature as he walked past. He then opened the final door with a password in Parseltongue, and entered to see his heir.

Said heir was sprawled on the pristine sheets of her canopy bed, reading a book. The Heir Princess was dressed in a white t-shirt and periwinkle overalls with the legs rolled up to mid-calf. Her feet, covered in polka-dotted socks, kicked happily in the air.

"Hello, Allana," he said in his low British tenor.

Allana jumped to her feet, immediately springing into a more fitting, more regal posture.

"Hello, Father," she said, looking down at her feet.

"I assume your studies are going well," Hadrian said, smirking at the book that she'd been reading. The Collected Works of Shakespeare, Volume III, Edition X.

"Yes, father," Allana answered with a curt nod.

"Good, good," Hadrian said, searching for the right words to say. "I am inviting you to come to the Seelie Castle in Britain for a coming-of-age ceremony."

"Coming-of-age?" Allana asked.

"You are almost sixteen, aren't you?" Hadrian asked, an amused look appearing in his green eyes. "Believe me, daughter, you will enjoy this."

"I will," Allana answered, looking at her socks.

"You will arrive in one week," Hadrian added. "I thought I'd drop by to see how you were doing, Allana. I assume no boys, no girls in your life?"

"Not really, Father," Allana said, still looking to her socks. "I have no interest."

"Good," Hadrian said, and he rumpled his daughter's dark waves. "Be good to Carlisle and Esme Cullen."

"I will," Allana vowed, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

Hadrian then turned and left, and Allana let out a sigh of relief as the door closed. She walked over to her book and plopped on the bed. It seemed that she was always studying for her future as the Empress of the Pottermore Empire. She immediately returned to her feet and looked to her daily schedule.

 _Meet with the Emperor? Check._

She snapped her fingers and a bright red check appeared on the sheet. The next activity read _Philosophy with Dr. Cullen._

Allana merely pulled on her loafers and smoothed over her overalls before descending her tower. Her great-grandfather never did mind her casual wear.

* * *

Renesmee Cullen-Potter strolled into her mother and father's cottage. It had been some time since she'd last spoken with her mother. Lady Isabella Cullen was sitting on the elegant upholstery, re-watching _Romeo and Juliet_ with extreme intensity. Renesmee had tired of her mother's obsession with the story when she was still young enough to be friends with her Uncle Jacob.

"Greetings, Mother," Renesmee said dramatically.

"Ah, my darling Nessie," Isabella said, looking up to Renesmee, her golden eyes bright and spilling with emotion. "Tell me, how is Hadrian?"

Renesmee knelt beside her mother and placed her hand on Isabella's face, projecting her meeting with Hadrian to her exactly as she remembered.

"Excellent," Isabella said. "Very nice. Hadrian is a darling."

"Not a word I would have selected for the Emperor," Renesmee said, a smirk curling up her blood-red lips. "But it shall do."

"Alice says that the meeting will go fine," Isabella informed her. "Nothing to worry about, Nessie."

"I know," Rensmee admitted. "I just-I just hope that he comes to a better agreement. The Volturi are the only thing keeping him from inviting France and everything east."

"I'm sure he will," Isabella said, boredom underlying.

"Where is Father?" Renesmee asked, touching the locket her mother gave her so many years ago unconsciously.

"In the palace," Isabella said. "Playing that piano, as always."

"Thank you, Mother," Renesmee said, standing up.

"Oh, do tell your father that I request his presence as soon as the last of his songs," Isabella added, a careless afterthought.

 _Careless is exactly the word for Mother,_ Renesmee thought absently.

"I'll tell him," she said.

* * *

Allana knocked on the large wooden cross on Dr. Carlisle Cullen's office. The patient fair man opened it with a cool, easygoing smile on his face.

"Hello, Allana," he said.

"Great-Grandpa," Allana replied, with a ballerina's curtsy.

"Come," he said. "Today we'll be discussing Machiavellian tactics."

"Of course," Allana said. "I've done all the reading you assigned me. I believe it is better to be loved than feared."

"Ah," Carlisle said with a nod. "I believe your father would disagree with that. You see, he has learned the hard way that fear is the best way to control the people. Fear keeps the people in line."

"Yes, but it doesn't gain their loyalty," Allana argued. "They do not want to follow you. Besides, fear leads to anger, anger leads to hatred. Hatred leads to a rebellion."

"But fear can squash that rebellion," Carlisle informed her. He stared at her curiously. "Your father would be most interested in hearing this."

Allana felt a rising panic in her chest, but clenched her fists, keeping herself together.

"Yes, I believe he would be interested to know that I am taking my future rule seriously," she answered.

"I forgot to ask-how are the rituals affecting you? You'll have one more before you go to the Seelie Castle," he asked.

"I've seen no change since the last one," she admitted. "Maybe I've hit the top of my potential-"

"Nonsense," Carlisle said, swatting his free hand as he scribbled down notes. "Perhaps I did it wrong last time. I should've known better than to try an alternative to the candles, there's really only one true way to do these sorts of things."

He looked up to Allana.

"I'll see you on Friday night, then. Ten O'clock, don't forget!"

He then handed her an appointment note. She nodded, folding it and putting it in the bib of her overalls, and she exited for her tower once more.


	2. Chiaroscuro

Volterra was sunny when Hadrian Apparated to the front desk of the Volturi's base. He briefly glanced at the nameplate of their newest secretary. _Amidala. How charming._

"Hadrian Potter of the Pottermore Empire," he stated. "I have an appointment with Aro, Marcus, and Caius."

Amidala scrambled, flipping through the papers desperately.

 _Muggles_ , Hadrian thought, rolling his eyes.

Finally she found what she'd been looking for and nodded frantically.

Jane and Alec, the two beautiful teenagers that were the favorites of the guard, approached, flanking both of Hadrian's sides. Hadrian continued forward, smirking. Neither twin could overpower him. And he'd know it if they did in a heartbeat.

He approached the main throne room where the three great Volturi sat. The central one, Aro, rose to his feet and stepped forwards.

"Hadrian Potter," Aro said, about to take Hadrian's hand-but Hadrian refused.

"I'd rather not," Hadrian said stiffly.

Aro looked considerably less jolly. "It wasn't a request, Mr. Potter."

Hadrian merely raised his eyebrows and allowed Aro his hand.

Aro smiled wickedly at Hadrian.

"I think we can come to an arrangement," he informed Hadrian. "Trade, at least to include wealth, perhaps a treaty. You will not invade any land east of Britain. I simply will not allow it."

"It's not a question of what you'll allow," Hadrian said coolly. "It's what you can defend."

"Careful, Mr. Potter," Marcus called from his throne.

"Yes, yes," Caius said eagerly. "It's not a declaration of war, is it?"

"No, no," Hadrian back-pedaled. "Of course not."

"Remember your place, Potter," Marcus added.

"Of course," Hadrian said.

* * *

Allana looked left, then right, before entering the room that belonged to her father whenever he spent the night at Olympia Palace. In the closet was the Mirror of Erised. Her mother never looked in it, and her father rarely stayed overnight, so she was the only one who did ever look at it.

In it, she saw her family. Not as she knew it, either. In the mirror, she saw Lily and James Potter smiling at her, and a family that was happy. Not her father, who frequently skipped out on her, or the mother that seemed to despise her. Instead, she saw a father that wanted to spend time with her, and a mother that adored her.

She stared at that mirror, imagining being held and told that her father or mother or whoever loved her. Why did that have to be such a foreign subject? And why did she always have the creeping doubt that her mother wasn't truly her mother or otherwise. . .

Allana shook her head. It was no use, dallying in dreams. Dreams didn't build a better reality. She would have to do that on her own. She placed her hand against Lily Potter's as she stared into the green eyes of her father as he should've been.

A shadow lumbered into the room. Jacob Black.

"You need to leave," he growled.

Allana almost tripped, getting to her feet and practically sprinted out. She didn't exercise her powers as Heir Princess lightly, but she did have her father ban Jacob Black from guarding her room. She had nightmares of the werewolf coming for her. She knew that Black was a vengeful, bitter man. Bitter that Isabella Swan had picked Edward Cullen over him, bitter that Renesmee, his imprint, chose Hadrian Potter over him. Allana suspected he'd do anything to be with one generation of the Swan family, even if it was her, Isabella's granddaughter.

She ran up the stairs to her tower, and slammed the tower door behind her. She then pulled out her favorite book, _Star by Star_ , and flopped on the bed. Allana enjoyed Anakin Solo very much-even if she did mind what happened to him at the end of the book very much-and Tahiri Veila even more. More importantly, these characters made her feel like she wasn't so powerless, so afraid in her life.

Especially seeing Jacen Solo and Tenel Ka Djo as parents. She could only imagine being loved that much by her father and mother.

Her several aunties and uncles, especially Aunt Rosalie and Uncle Jasper, were very eager to give her the science fiction novels, if just because she was their future ruler. But she suspected Aunt Rosalie in particular just wanted her to be a smart girl.

Well, the jury was out on smart. But she did know enough that she'd be happy to step in as the queen everyone wanted her to be. But she wasn't yet what they needed. After all, even if the jury was out on Allana's intelligence, she certainly wasn't stupid.

* * *

Friday came around too quickly. She stayed up next to Grandmother Bella, listening to her read Tennyson in a perfectly melodious cadence. Grandfather Edward played an intense song that made Allana think of rebellion. Then, she was tied to the silver chair made from goblin silver and taken from the Malfoys.

Around her, in the moonlight, Carlisle lit candles made from the wax of pixie hives, and then forced down her throat an elixir that felt like mud and almost suffocated her. That was when the other wizards circled around, on Carlisle's command.

" _Maximoff_ ," they whispered. " _Maximoff_. _Maximoff_."

Each time, Allana could feel the power within threatening to overtake her, to burn her. It struggled with her against the bonds. She knew in her very bones that they were creating a monster.

This time was no different. Yet she knew that sooner or later, she'd hit her peak. And she didn't want to find out later.


	3. Seelie Castle

In all the hustle and bustle of Seelie Castle, no one noticed the slight girl of fourteen in brown nondescript robes. Her brilliant green eyes took in the scene. In the main hall, the official banners and flags of the Pottermore Empire hung over the cold stones. Witches, wizards, and vampires hurried about in black robes with the lightning insignia of the empire stitched to their backs.

Allana looked down, remembering to keep her hair hidden by her headscarf. Even if this was her birthplace, she was taken away to Olympia for a reason. It wasn't yet time for anyone to know that their princess had returned.

She glanced up briefly to catch the eye of her werewolf bodyguard, and subtly followed him towards one of the secret passages in the castle. Once they were in a slightly less populated hallway, he took her near a column and pushed just the right brick.

He pushed Allana into the passageway and covered her as the entry closed. She willed a light in her hand and continued down the passageway. She ascended a couple flights of stairs until she reached the end. She gently pushed the door open and mirror swung round to let her into her bedroom. She fastened the mirror properly to the wall again and looked around.

Her room had been searched quite thoroughly, according to Renesmee, and her wardrobe had been provided by the finest designers in the empire. Of course, she was to have a special appointment with the greatest of them all for her ceremony robes.

Allana removed her headscarf and perused her schedule. She was also to go to Ollivander's for a wand-polishing after the fitting. Next was a leisure period, then a state dinner, and then, supposedly, the ceremony would begin.

She slipped off her brown travel robes and her gentle hands worked their way over her wardrobe. She'd have to look more befitting of royalty.

* * *

For the first time in three years, the Emperor was lounging on the balcony outside his suite. Of course, he was with his wife, but the emperor never did seem to use his facilities. The only time Hadrian could really be seen was during his speeches or with his wife. The Machiavellian answer was certainly serving him well.

Renesmee was dressed in a white cotton gown reminiscent of a Greek goddess and her reddish-bronze curls were loose. Hadrian twirled a curl around his finger and smirked.

"I wish there could be more days like this, Ness," Hadrian murmured.

"But then such occasions wouldn't be so special, beloved," Renesmee replied in a purr.

"Perhaps," he admitted. "But I would have that many more to remember."

"I forget how human your memory is," Renesmee murmured.

Hadrian frowned, but he tried to not let it show.

"Allana will soon be going to her fitting. Perhaps-"

Renesmee sat up immediately, glaring at Hadrian with her own chocolate eyes. It reminded Hadrian instantly of the dangers of being married to a human-vampire hybrid.

"I will not," she hissed, sounding like her vampire family.

Hadrian merely met her glare, and didn't shy away from it.

"You go," she finally said, miffed. "She wants her father, anyway."

"I don't-"

"She does," Renesmee insisted, and she placed her hand on his face. He saw his lonely daughter, felt the pervading cold and loneliness, and remembered his own first year, in front of the Mirror of Erised. He jerked away from Renesmee.

"I'll go!" he shouted. "Alright? Just. . . Don't do that again."

Renesmee rose to her feet angrily.

"I'm your wife!" she shouted right back. "You can't just order me about! Or have you forgotten our vows so soon?"

"My memory might not be as perfect as yours, but of course I remember our wedding day!"

"Sometimes I wonder if I married a stranger," Renesmee said bitterly.

Hadrian barely kept his composure. With her abilities, and their marriage of twenty years, soon to be twenty-one, she knew all the weak spots to hit. The Emperor pulled on his official cloak and regalia, and left his wife alone on the balcony.

* * *

The Heir Princess emerged from her room in a dark red number that still appeared as girlish on her, and her hair restrained in a braid. The werewolves flanked her sides as they escorted her into the main hall and then into the upper marketplace chambers. The largest was home to Madam Malkin's wares.

Madam Malkin was the royal seamstress for as long as the beginning of the empire. Allana had grown up wearing the clothes she'd made for children, and her mother and father always wore robes made by her.

Madam Malkin, a calm elderly woman in mauve, managed a weak smile as Allana strode through the front door.

"Good afternoon, madam," Allana said elegantly with a curt nod.

Malkin quickly curtsied.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness. What may I help you with?" Malkin asked.

"I believe my father scheduled a fitting," Allana prompted. Malkin blinked, unsure, and the guards began to growl. Allana held her palm up, and they reluctantly obeyed.

"O-Of course, milady," Malkin said, finally remembering.

Allana nodded and waited patiently as Emperor Hadrian walked through the door. She whipped around on her heel, and almost stumbled on the black ruffled hem of her dark red gown.

"Hello, Father," she said, looking to her boots underneath her dress.

"Hello, Allana," he said, sounding amused. "I assume you only just got here?"

"Yes, Father," she answered.

"Good," he said. "I wanted to see this."

"Oh." She wasn't sure what to do with a father that wanted her nearby.

Madam Malkin practically ran out, and nearly fainted upon seeing the Emperor.

"Your Majesty, I thought your robes were fitting fine!" she cried.

"They are," Hadrian answered. He placed a hand on Allana's shoulder, and it took all her composure to keep from jerking it out of his grasp. "I'm merely here to observe my dear daughter's fitting."

"Very nice," Malkin said in a high voice as she tried to regain her own balance. She set a couple sets of robes out in front of Allana. The first was white with a simplicity to it that Allana was sure her father would like. So she turned it down immediately.

"I like it," she assured the nervous seamstress. "Just not for this event."

Malkin nodded and took it aside. Hadrian pointed out a lacy green number.

"Why not this one?" he asked.

"I suppose," Allana said, at first reluctant, and then realizing the benefit of wearing what her father wanted. "I'd like this one."

Malkin nodded thankfully, and escorted Allana to the back and she tried it on. Naturally, she liked it well enough, but her father enjoyed it more. Hadrian hugged her and assured her that the ceremony would be good, and then left.

Allana just sighed and got ready for next appointment with Ollivander and wondered why her father made so many nervous, including herself. She pulled out her wand. She'd owned it since she was ten years old, and was quite proud of it. Rowan and Phoenix feather, 14 inches, unyielding.

She'd researched wandlore after that, and was surprised to see what that said about her. Rowan was for the light wizards, and for the pure of heart. Phoenix feathers were for those of unique potential. Long wands were for those of great personality. And the harder that the wand was to bend or break, the same went for the will of the owner.

Allana had to say that she wasn't entirely sure about that.


	4. Something Wicked This Way Comes

Boredom seeped into Allana's bones as she sighed and looked across the table to her mother's stony face and goblet of blood. _Mother and Father must be fighting again._ Allana sipped at her own goblet of butterbeer. It was childish, yes, but it was the Emperor's favorite, not just a basic selection.

It was odd, staring at the goblet and knowing that she shared more than just DNA with her father. She wasn't quite sure if she liked that or not. She saw how unhappy most people were around him, how afraid they often were. And she suspected that the Pottermore Empire wasn't nearly as happy as her family had told her.

Still, she was her father's daughter and she could not escape that.

Hadrian looked to her and she immediately sat up straighter, breaking free of her reverie. He did not seem upset or angry, however.

"Allana, have you had enough to eat?" he asked his daughter concernedly.

"I'm quite fine," Allana answered honestly.

"Then I suppose we should begin," Hadrian declared as he stood. All conversation in the dining room stopped. "Everyone, gather outside on the balcony. Tell the people that the even they've been waiting for has arrived."

Allana stayed close to her father during the transfer of rooms. She never did trust the nobles in her father's court-she wasn't sure that her father trusted the nobles in his court. She tried to stay away from Renesmee as well, who seemed moodier than usual. If there was one thing that Allana had learned from being raised by vampires, it was that it was _never_ a good idea to irritate them.

The nobles lined up into position, and the Headmistress of Hogwarts stepped up. Her usually-bushy hair was now curled neatly and pinned into a bun atop her head with sculpted curls flowing from it, and she seemed to sparkle in her golden yellow dress robes.

"Attention!" Hermione Granger shouted. The people fell into formation at her cry. "The Emperor Hadrian, may his reign be long, wishes to share with you an important day in the new dawn of the Pottermore Empire!"

An applause roared from the crowd in the palace courtyard.

"Welcome, my children," Hadrian began. "I think the time has come for you to meet your future empress at long last."

Murmurs went through the crowd in a buzz of excitement.

"If I may, meet Allana Lilibella Sayre Cullen Potter!" Hadrian shouted, and lights illuminated Allana, the television screens of the muggles showing her face for everyone. She smiled, sweetly, shyly, and waved to her people with a candid childishness. Cheers rose from the crowd as Hadrian placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"Tonight we will-"

" _LUMINA_!" With the shout, a Phoenix symbol rose into the air, and Hadrian pushed Allana down as curses began to fly. Allana immediately scrambled to her feet, but the damage was done. Curses flew across the courtyard and to the balcony. Hermione, Hadrian, and Renesmee appeared to be fending off some of the spells, but Hadrian was clearly yelling for Allana to run. She lifted her skirts and bolted for the door. She would've made it, too, if it weren't for the hand that grabbed her upper arm.

She tried to yank free and stepped on her captor's toes. She whipped around, free of their grasp, and saw a person about her height, dressed all in black armor. They attempted to grab her again, but she forced them back with her magic, and picked up her skirts to run again when her attacker grabbed at her skirts. She tried to run, but to no avail.

Allana punched her attacker and thought she might've heard a crack but wasn't sure. She was about to try again when her attacker grabbed her arm. She tried to pry their fingers off, but couldn't.

They pulled out a needle and Allana bucked and screamed, seeing it draw nearer. She made desperate eye-contact with her father, who knew what she was asking him to do. The attacker then injected the substance into her, and wrapped their arms around her chest as she tilted, feeling dizzy. Before Hadrian could reach them, however, her entire world went black.

* * *

"ALLANA!" Hadrian screamed, watching as his daughter went unconscious and her kidnapper disappeared before his very eyes. How could he have let all this happen? He'd let the Resistance continue for too long. He let them have a few victories, playing them as masterfully as Lord Edward Cullen played his piano, but clearly something had slipped past him.

No matter. He'd learned the secret of true darkness from Alec of the Volturi, and he would use it. He raised his wand, and the darkness seeped out, catching everyone Hadrian wanted it to, freezing them into a senseless slumber.

Captain Leah Clearwater looked to Hadrian relievedly.

"Good thinking," she told him.

"I know," he replied coolly. "Tell your people to interrogate them. Let me know when you have them in the interrogation chambers."

"Of course," Captain Clearwater replied, and she bounded away swiftly.

Renesmee looked to Hadrian, clearly not knowing what to say.

"Don't. Talk. To. Me," he growled as she stepped forward, hand aloft. "I don't want any of your head games, not right now."

He stormed off, vowing his vengeance against the bastards who had kidnapped his daughter. He'd make sure they were destroyed and could never again rise. He stopped by a corridor, feeling immediately exhausted. A feeling he hadn't sensed in a long time had returned.

"I feel it," he murmured aloud. "The call to the light. I rejected the light years ago."

An anger rose within him. "You have no business returning! The light is weak and could not save me! I make my own destiny! I am Hadrian Potter!"

His shout attracted the attention of a few nervous servants, but a glare from the Emperor shut them up. He clenched his fists. They simply couldn't understand him. Besides, his days in the light were over.

Hadrian then continued on his way to interrogate the prisoners.


	5. Dumbledore's Army

Allana awakened tied to a silver chair in the dark. Her legs were tied to the chair's legs, her skirts ripped so that her kidnappers could restrain her. Her arms were behind her back.

 _What the bloody hell_ , she thought as she struggled against the bonds, hoping some vampiric strength would help her out. After a few minutes, she concluded it would take a while, but it could be done. However, she had a better idea.

Her magic came to her easily, and with a bang and a flash of red light, she was free. She made a light with her magic, and continued forward, her fingers twitching to remind the light to stay on. The door, she found, was unlocked, and she wandered out into some cellar, judging by some of the wine cases. She heard footsteps and cut the light, hiding under one of the barrels of elven wine.

Three ragtag teenagers ran into the cellar.

"I can sense it-the princess has left her cell. We have to find her before she escapes!" the blond bellowed.

Allana willed herself to stay very quiet in hope that she could escape stealthily and not use her power on anybody.

" _Homemim revelio_ ," the bushy-haired girl said.

A light came over to Allana, no matter how she tried to avoid it. The teenagers followed it eagerly, and Allana was dreading what she was about to do.

"Leave me alone!" she shouted. "Please! Don't make me do this!"

The teenagers were closing in and-

Her magic reacted on its own, throwing them back with a red energy field. Allana leapt to her feet and ran up the stairs before any of the rebellion teenagers could catch her. At least she'd inherited more of her mother's vampiric speed than strength. She darted into a family room made of ebony. Two adults in the room jumped to their feet, drawing their wands, and Allana held up her hands in warning as she recognized them.

Well, the first one. Gaunt, pale face, blond hair, and shattered gray eyes-he had to be Draco Malfoy. Although he was wearing all black robes that covered his body, she thought she could see traces of scars on his hands and neck and face. She'd heard that Draco Malfoy had been the Death Eater that had suffered the most when her father rose to power, although she never understood why.

She could hear the footsteps of the others coming. She started trying to slowly edge away-

" _Petrificus Totalus_!"

She ducked, the curse whizzing over her head as she continued trying to get away, but then she was grabbed from behind again, by the blond boy.

"Let go of me!" she screamed.

"No," said the woman standing by Malfoy. "Princess, I think it's time we had a chat."

"Who are you?" Allana asked, so overcome by curiosity that she stopped struggling.

"Your father knew me as Astoria Greengrass," she said with a laugh. "These days, I'm the mysterious Ms. Malfoy. I suppose Astoria would do for now."

Allana found herself nodding, and then remembered where she was.

"Why am I here? What do you want to do with me?" she asked.

Astoria gave her what appeared to be a sad smile. "It's a long story, Allana Potter. Are you ready to hear it?"

"Do I have any other choice?" Allana asked, quirking a brow.

"You have your mother's spirit," Astoria said with a grin.

"My mother?" Allana asked, confused.

"It's a long story," Astoria admitted. "Scorpius, let the princess sit. I think both of you would tire from waiting."

"I suppose," Scorpius said, and he escorted Allana to one of the dark couches in the sitting room of what Allana now recognized as Malfoy Manor. She gingerly sat down, and decided to bide her time.

"I suppose you're wondering why we took you from the palace?" Astoria asked.

"No, I thought you kidnapped me for a tea party," Allana deadpanned.

"Unfortunately, no," Astoria said. "This isn't just about politics, either. The people are suffering."

"Look, I heard about the eight families that were punished when my father rose to the throne, and I know that the court's a mess," Allana said. "But it's better for the Wizards-isn't it? I mean, we don't have to hide anymore, and neither do the vampires-"

"At the cost of the muggles," Astoria informed her coldly. "Muggles are allowed to be drained dry by vampires, Squibs are often taken away from their parents to be 'relocated with muggles.' The thing is, I don't believe that's what happened to Aquarius."

"Aquarius?" Allana had never heard of the Malfoys having more than one heir.

"My daughter," Astoria said, a malevolent flash in her brown eyes. "The Emperor took my daughter and he did something to her, I just know he did."

"I'm sorry for your loss, but I cannot control my father," Allana insisted. "And I can't take the throne until my father is dead, as per the laws of the Pottermore Empire. I want to do something about the problems with the Empire, but I just can't."

"Actually," Astoria said, "You can. That's why you're here. You've got some sort of powerful magic-at least, according to our spies. You might just be more powerful than your father."

"I can't be," Allana protested, shaking her head. "No one is more powerful than the Emperor."

"He just wants you to believe that," Astoria said. "And even if you aren't, that's where we come in."

"What do you mean?" Allana asked.

"We've got the best J'daii combat specialists," Astoria said. "They can fight physically and with spells. I'll bet my hippogriff that the Emperor isn't so trained in physical fights as he is magical. Even if he is, he surely hasn't practiced for many years."

"You don't know anything about my father then," Allana said. "And you've got everything wrong when it comes to me. I'm not the person you're looking for, sorry. I'm no Chosen One."

"Allana, tell me if I'm wrong, but it was said that you were born with a lightning scar over your heart. Is that true?" Astoria asked.

Allana instinctively placed her hand over her heart defensively. "How could you know that?"

"Our spies have been in the castle since your birth-one of our agents was even a witness," Astoria explained. "But one of my daughters, Delphi, can tell you of a prophecy in which your very scar is mentioned."

"My scar?" Allana looked over to a girl with silvery-blue hair approaching her twenties.

"When the Lightning-Scarred Heart arrives. . ." Delphi trailed off. "The prophecy was very literal, thank Merlin. I've had it with the metaphorical ones."

"You're a Seer?" Allana asked.

"Among other things," Delphi said cryptically.

"The point is, a prophecy foretold your power," Astoria said. "And that you would overthrow your father in a duel."

"The prophecy is oddly specific," Allana muttered.

"Yes," Delphi replied. "It is. Be thankful."

Allana sighed. "I can't defeat my father. He's my _father_."

"I rebelled against my parents," Astoria said, leaping to her feet with the dangerous grace of a panther. "Draco has rebelled against his. Listen to me, Potter-you will overthrow your father. Even if we have to resort to unsavory means to do so."

Allana shook her head. "And you honestly think you're better. Yet you want to force a fourteen-year-old to murder her own father to further your political agenda."

"It's for the greater good," Astoria said. "I've tried reasoning with you, and you seem to be just like your father, snarking off and twisting our words. Your father is causing everyone to suffer. It's only fair, what we're requesting of you."

Astoria was almost on top of Allana, and she began to feel even more afraid.

" _Get away from me_ ," Allana ordered in her most regal, most imperious voice. "Now."

" _Impe_ -"

"No." Draco's hand was on Astoria's shoulder, a haunted look in his eyes. "We can't do this, Tori."

"Maybe you can't," she hissed, sounding like a cat. "But I can. _Imperio_."

Allana felt as if she were drifting, floating. There wasn't a care in the world, and her own mind was far away from whatever was happening. Surely it wasn't important. All she knew was that she needed to follow the butterflies.


	6. Obscurus Occurrus

**AN: Minor Fantastic Beasts spoilers.**

* * *

When Allana awakened, she instantly knew something was wrong. She was in her cell again, and her muscles ached, but that wasn't the worst of it. She felt her power practically pounding at her from within, begging to be released.

Something was horribly wrong, she knew it as she stood up, and the power within became stronger in ways she couldn't describe. She stumbled against the wall, trying to anchor herself to reality as she wondered just how long she'd been under the Imperius Curse.

 _Days? Weeks? Months? Years?_

Her horror was the weakness her power was waiting for. She couldn't control the storm inside, and it was set free.

* * *

Hadrian James Potter was not pleased. Over the past month of interrogations and investigations, and he had gotten no closer to finding the secrets of a rebel base. He'd gotten an alert from the investigative team, however, and was looking forward to what they had for him.

"Have you ever considered that she might not ever come back?" Renesmee demanded as he rose to answer the alert.

"I cannot give up hope," he answered.

"She's dead or Stockholmed," Renesmee said, tapping her fingers as if bored. "Give it up, Harry."

"I, I can't," he murmured, coming to the realization. "The light keeps calling. . . It won't leave me until my daughter and heir returns to the palace. And I'd watch your tongue!"

"You're not thinking clearly if it's even a thought that I might be shut up," she purred with a sensual energy. "Hurry back, Harry."

The control room of some wizards and werewolves over a map was distraught, searching for the lost princess-except for one in the center.

"Hello, Mr. Diggory," Hadrian said.

"Yes," Diggory replied. "I've got a pinpoint location. It seems her Obscurus got loose-"

"OBSCURUS?" Hadrian bellowed. "My daughter hasn't been abused, or forced to repress her magic!"

"It's the facts, sir," Diggory replied calmly. "Our technology can pinpoint underage and Obscurial magic, and not much else-at least, not the specifics of it. And Dr. Cullen himself made reports of tests that came to a similar conclusion. We even interrogated-"

"My father-in-law?" Hadrian asked, raising his eyebrows.

"It was necessary for the investigation, _sir_ ," Diggory answered levelly.

"I see," Hadrian replied, thinking. "Send the squad to the location. Arrest anyone there if you can't find her."

"Of course, sir," Diggory said with a salute.

He looked to the squadron and they all Disapparated to the location. Hadrian would go himself, but he knew very well now how many of his ungrateful subjects wanted him dead.

 _Bloody fools, the lot of them,_ Hadrian thought as he glanced at the location. Malfoy Manor.

* * *

Cedric Diggory Apparated within the holly hedges of Malfoy Manor and heard screams. Several parts of the house were exploding with a red and black energy that could only be an Obscurus.

Cedric muttered a few curses under his breath as he drew his wand.

"What are you waiting for?" he shouted at his fellow Aurors. "Let's shut this rebellion down!"

They didn't wait a second time, as teenagers and adults ran out of the house, firing curses at the Obscurus. The Obscurus, however, was not interested in staying at Malfoy Manor, from what Cedric could surmise. It roared over their heads, and he went flat to the ground as it passed overhead, let loose on the wild moors of Wiltshire.

Cedric got to his feet and started firing Binding Curses. What drew his attention about this rebel cell was the sheer amount of teenagers involved in the fighting. All of them had the traditional aristocratic appearance of purebloods and if Cedric had all the gold in Gringotts, he'd bet they all had a surname from the Sacred Twenty-Eight.

One figure that stood out among them all, however, was Draco Malfoy, sobbing over a dead body. Cedric slowly approached, not sure what to say to the younger man. Then his heart rose in his throat. In Draco Malfoy's arms lay a dead Astoria Malfoy, scarred heavily. It was obvious what had happened.

Allana's Obscurus murdered her.

"Your princess murdered my wife!" Draco cried. "Astoria was trying, was trying to save her. . ."

"You can tell it to the jury, Mr. Malfoy," Cedric said softly. "I'm sorry for your loss. Maybe if you can give enough information to the court-"

"And what about my son? My daughters? Potter has taken everything from me!" Draco shouted tearfully as he drew his wand.

"I'm sorry I have to do this," Cedric said. " _Brachiabindo_!"

The sobbing Draco Malfoy was immediately tied up, and his wand clattered to the ground.

It was when he had to be cruel, like this, that Cedric became tired of fighting. Especially for Emperor Hadrian.

* * *

Emperor Hadrian watched as the Obscurus sighting alerts lit up like a Christmas tree. He appeared stoic, hands behind his back gripping a wand, feet apart, stony expression. The Aurors even darted around him. What they didn't realize was the storm inside their own emperor.

The light was calling to him even more than it had over the past twenty years. It was enough to make him doubt what he'd made of his life. He was an orphan, and he'd become the emperor of the Eastern Hemisphere, practically. It was enough to make any man proud.

He'd gotten everything he'd ever wanted as a lonely, abandoned child. Yet. . . Why did he feel so _empty_?

If this conscience was linked to his daughter, like he suspected, then everything would be fine soon. He trusted Diggory-the man had almost died for him when he was fourteen and still foolish. If anyone could bring Allana home, besides himself, Diggory could.


	7. Scamander Cottage

Newt Scamander had, unfortunately, plenty of experiences with Obscurials. He glanced over at Credence and Tina Scamander. The other two nodded, and he looked back to his granddaughter-in-law.

"Hold down the fort," Newt ordered. "Credence, Tina?"

"Of course," Tina said. "Let's go."

With that, they Disapparated outside, where the wind was howling over the Scamander cottage.

Newt wasn't a young man anymore, but he still was agile enough to duck the projectile the Obscurus threw at him in the wind.

"We're not here to hurt you!" Newt shouted. "Please, we want to help you!"

The Obscurus seemed slightly less violent.

Newt looked to Credence encouragingly.

"I knew a boy once, one a lot like you," Credence began. "I know what it feels like, to be you! You feel like you're falling apart, you're scared, you don't really want to hurt anyone-I understand. I know, trust me."

The Obscurus stopped, starting to shrink.

"That's it," Credence assured her, glancing to Tina and Newt. "You can do this. We're not here to hurt you, we want to help you. And we know how to help people like you."

The Obscurus quickly retreated into the shape of a fourteen-year-old girl.

Tina couldn't help but gasp. Newt, Tina, and Credence recognized the Potter eyes. Yet they couldn't deny the girl the help she so desperately needed.

"Can I come over there?" Newt asked.

Allana shook her head, and Newt nodded.

"That's alright," he said. "If that's what you prefer. What's your name?"

"Al-Alice," she lied. "Alice Swann."

"Ah," Newt said, sharing a look with Credence and Tina. "Well, Alice, if you want, you can come with us. We've got food, we've got shelter. You must be a long way from home, and you must be tired."

The girl who was so obviously the Heir Princess of Pottermore sighed, and stood.

"I guess. . . I guess I would like to go with you," she said reluctantly.

"Come on," Credence said. "I think you'd like the cottage."

They turned around and began walking. Allana only hesitated for a second before following them.

* * *

"Why on Earth couldn't you retrieve my daughter?" Hadrian demanded.

"She was an Obscurus! You try catching that!" Diggory shouted, finally sick and tired of Potter's ignorance of the Dark Arts.

"Excuse me, Mr. Diggory?" Hadrian asked in a deadly quiet voice.

"Sir, I will not apologize," Diggory replied. "I have been running your Auror Office ever since you rose to power. I gave more field experience than you do. If you choose not to listen to me, then you do not deserve my advice."

"You are a fool to think you have any superiority over me in any way," Hadrian snarled. "Since you have spent such a long time in my service and you have saved my life, I shall allow you to live in the free populace. But you will not work for the Auror Office again. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Diggory replied. "My desk will be cleared by sunset."

"Good," Hadrian sneered. He then looked to his employees and sprang. "Daphne Greengrass. I believe you will take Mr. Diggory's place as head of the Auror Department and the head of the investigative team on the disappearance of my daughter."

"Understood," the blonde replied. "Thank you, sir."

* * *

Tina looked to Allana nervously.

"I'm the Secret Keeper of our home," she confessed, beckoning Allana closer. "12 Garden Drive, Dorset."

The cottage immediately appeared to Allana, and Tina hurried her through the kitchen door. Allana entered the pink kitchen, where an elderly man and a woman were cooking happily together as jazz played from their beat-up radio.

"Why, hello there," the elderly witch said, looking up to Allana with piercing eyes. Allana felt as if this witch could see her very soul, and all her deepest secrets. "You poor thing. An Obscurial?"

"Queenie's a Legillimens," Tina explained as Credence and Newt entered the house.

"No need to be afraid of me, honey," Queenie said with a casual swat of the hand. "I don't hurt kids. Or anyone who doesn't deserve it. You don't deserve it, honey, trust me."

"Uh, okay," Allana said, not sure what to say next. She knew just as well as Queenie did that she knew her secrets.

"My, my, you've been through so much," she said softly. "An Obscurial to begin with. . . Mercy Lewis!"

Queenie dropped her wand and her hands flew to her mouth.

"What? What's wrong?" Tina asked.

"Queenie?" Jacob cried.

"Dumbledore's Army has gone too far," Queenie declared, tears in her eyes. "Dear God, no wonder Astoria Malfoy is dead."

"I didn't mean to-"

"No one ever does," Credence said, a quiet sort of reassurance about him. "It's not your fault. If she was. . . manipulating you, then the Obscurus probably reacted to that. The boy I knew's Obscurus? It attacked people who mistreated him. It killed people who had abused him, manipulated him, called him a freak."

"What's an Obscurus?" Allana finally asked.

"It's that power, that uncontrollable magic," Newt said. "It comes out when a wizard or a witch tries to repress their magic."

Allana frowned, not saying anything.

"Dumbledore's Army always was on the edge," he swore. "They're almost as bad as Grindelwald's fanatics. They're not even what Dumbledore would have wanted."

"And putting anyone under the Imperius, especially a child," Queenie added.

"That's what they did?" Tina demanded. "To a child? Why on Earth-"

She glanced at Allana with suspicion.

"Let me guess-they wanted you to kill Harry Potter?" Tina asked.

"How do you-"

"I think several people, including us, want Harry Potter dead," Tina replied dryly.

"His name is Hadrian," Allana said defensively.

"He was born Harry," Newt said. "I saw the Registrar myself. He is not nearly as grand as he pretends to be. He is also not the Heir of Gryffindor, or Slytherin, or even Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff."

"But that can't be, so many scholars," Allana protested.

"Were bribed," Tina answered.

"Honey, I think you know the truth," Queenie said with pity in her piercing eyes. "Your father isn't a good man because he hurts other people and controls them. He's controlled you, hasn't he?"

"Y-You know who my father is?" Allana asked, her blood running cold.

"Honey, everyone knew," Queenie explained gently. "You've got the Potter eyes, you see. Lily's eyes. They're unmistakable."

"We don't want to hurt you," Newt said quickly, exchanging a glance with Tina. "I knew several kids like you. And it's not your fault, what your father made you or taught you. And it's not your fault that Astoria is dead."

"But it is," Allana insisted, tears welling up. She knew, she was pathetic. She couldn't defend herself against an Imperius, or fight a duel, or even help the people she was supposed to rule over after her father's death.

"No," Credence said. "It's the Obscurus's fault. Not yours."

"Let me show you to your room," Tina said quietly.

Allana nodded, following the elderly witch out.


End file.
